monkey

Leah's watched the big kids do the monkey bars at school with envy for a few months now.  I remember when she came home and said that her friend told her she was too little to do it.  The next day she started hanging on the first bar and dangling.  Other kids would soar past her and she'd smile and dangle until her fingers turned pink and she'd be forced to let go.  A week later, I watched her get to the second bar.  Other kids figured out how to hang upside down but she was still so proud of herself at that second bar.  I'd hear her yelling, "You see me, Mama?"  She stayed at that second bar for a week or two.  I didn't have any warning today when she jumped on and swung from one bar to the other-the whole way down, her little high bun bouncing on top of her cute, round head.  And I certainly didn't know I was going to start to tear up in the middle of the playground.  But I'm sure that's not surprising.  I didn't know that watching her do the monkey bars would make me fill with pride, but I'm grateful that I had that moment today.